


Love in the Time of the Dragonborn

by thefiresfromheaven



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, M/M, dragon!zuko, werewolf!sokka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15018029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefiresfromheaven/pseuds/thefiresfromheaven
Summary: Zuko had known that coming to Skyrim was a bad idea from the moment Iroh suggested it as a good place to spend their exile.OrHe expected the rain, but he did not expect the werewolves.





	Love in the Time of the Dragonborn

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly inspired by [this little gem](http://drawthelinestoallconstellations.tumblr.com/post/171318283691/dragon-shifterzuko-and-werewolfsokka-aus-are-my)

Zuko had known that coming to Skyrim was a bad idea from the moment Iroh suggested it as a good place to spend their exile. True, Iroh had a few old friends there who would have been very willing to house them, but there were so many other factors to consider.

For starters, the rain. It was cold, too, but that didn’t bother him as much as being soaking wet did. And then, of course, there were the Imperials who, mere hours after they crossed the border, had taken them into custody and tried to have them executed. Zuko almost smiled at the memory of the look of shock and horror on the Imperial’s faces when Iroh had shed his human skin, expanding into his true form and quickly crunching the executioner between his jaws. His uncle wasn’t fond of violence, but he also wasn’t fond of being dead.

Of course, then they had gotten separated. Everything had been so chaotic in the aftermath of Iroh’s transformation and neither the Imperials or the other prisoners seemed to know if they should be fighting each other or Iroh or both. Just before he was swept out of earshot of his uncle, Zuko heard him yelling about meeting up in Whiterun, and then he was gone and running through cramped tunnels alongside a friendly Nord, a man with an unpronounceable name who at least seemed to dislike Imperials as much as he did. The man had even directed him to this Whiterun place, a small town not far from the border, where he was supposed to meet his uncle.

And now here he was, a foreigner in a town where he knew no one. He had no money, his uncle was nowhere to be seen, and on top of everything else it had started to rain. Heavily.

It was quickly growing dark and the last of the townspeople had already disappeared from the streets. Most of the streetlamps were sputtering in the downpour, casting eerily flickering shadows on the walls of the cramped houses. Zuko shook his wet hair out of his face and squinted into the dimness. One light, far at the end of the street, seemed to be stronger and warmer than the others. A hostel, perhaps? Maybe they’d understand his situation and let him wait to pay until he found his uncle.

He started down the street, feeling his way carefully over the slick paving stones, scowling with frustration. A year ago, six months ago, he wouldn’t have had this much trouble keeping dry. He could have just willed his skin, the air around him, to heat and keep him dry and warm. Unfortunately, the old stories about his people’s power getting weaker the farther they got from their homeland seemed to be true, at least in his case. Iroh had no trouble at all, but perhaps it was just because he was older and more experienced.

As it was, it took far too long for him to reach the warm light of the building at the end of the street. He paused at the bottom of the steps leading up to the entrance, gritting his teeth and trying to pull on the last little bit of his power to enhance his vision and give him an idea of what type of place this was. It worked, if only for a few seconds. That short burst was enough to give him a glimpse of a long, solidly built hall, and a feeling of warmth and camaraderie from inside. It seemed like the right sort of place, he decided, and climbed the stairs.

He hesitated once more at the door, then squared his shoulders and pushed at it.

It didn’t budge.

He scowled and pushed again, with both hands this time.

Nothing.

A rumbling growl started up in his chest and he snarled, ramming his shoulder into the door-

-which suddenly wasn’t where it had been, and he stumbled over his own feet, tripping himself up. A shocked gasp forced itself past his lips and he braced for the fall, but instead of hard stone floor he fell against a warm, solid chest.

“Woah, hey there mister!”

Strong hands grabbed at his shoulders, steadying him and pushing him upright, and he found himself caught in the brilliant smile and bright eyes of the young man who held him. He stood nearly a head taller than Zuko, and the way he held himself suggested simultaneously the deadly grace of a seasoned warrior and the brute savagery of a predator. Zuko shivered, gaze drawn to the man’s sharp, calculated, gorgeous eyes, and immediately knew that this was not someone he would want as an enemy.

The man eyed him, his gaze sweeping over every inch of his body, hot and dangerous. “Gods, you’re soaked. Come on, you’ll catch your death of cold in this weather.”

Without any further ceremony he dragged Zuko inside, pushing the heavy door shut behind them with impossible ease. “Yo, Katara! Bring some towels!”

“I thought everyone was already in for the night?” The woman’s voice echoed from somewhere nearby, close enough that Zuko would be able to see her if he could manage to tear his gaze from those mesmerizing blue eyes. The man grinned at him, and his eyes seemed to gleam in the faint firelight coming from the center of the room. Zuko dazedly thought that it reminded him of his childhood cat.

“He’s not one of ours, Katara,” said another woman’s voice, younger, her tone almost lazy. “Your brother’s ability to attract strays is really something else.”

“Hey now, that’s just mean.” The man glanced over his shoulder at the speaker, and Zuko blinked rapidly, feeling like a spell had been broken. When he followed the man’s gaze he saw a girl, probably no more than sixteen, sitting near a large fire, her bare feet propped up on the table in front of her.

“Toph, stop trying to antagonize Sokka. And get your feet off of the table.” The first woman who had spoken made her way over to Zuko and the man- Sokka, he supposed- her arms full of towels. She looked remarkably like him, like Sokka. She was almost as tall as him, had the same dark hair and tanned skin, and her eyes, besides being the same color, had the same predatory gleam.

“Aw, you’re no fun,” the girl- Toph- grumbled, but she obeyed and slid her feet off the table.

Katara rolled her eyes and threw a towel over Zuko’s head, pushing Sokka to the side with a quick elbow to the ribs. “What were you doing outside in this weather? If you were a Nord it would be one thing, but you’re clearly not from around here. What’s your name? And for Gods’ sakes, why didn’t you take shelter from the rain in the inn or something?”

“I, uh-“ Zuko gaped at her, overwhelmed by the sudden deluge of words. She draped another towel over his shoulders and looked at him impatiently. This clearly wasn’t a woman used to waiting for people to answer her. “Zuko,” he said quickly, drawing the towel tighter around himself. “My name’s Zuko. I- uh, I didn’t know where the inn was. I just got here, I, I’ve never been before. I don’t know where anything is.”

Katara nodded, as if she was expecting just that.

“Well that’s fine, we don’t mind you being here. The Hall is always open to those in need. You’re welcome to stay tonight.” As she spoke she grabbed the towel on his head and began to aggressively rub his hair dry, and Zuko just let her. He wasn’t used to people being so physical with him and wasn’t quite sure how to react.

“I’m going to see if any of the whelps have a spare change of clothes,” Sokka said, poking Katara in the side. “I think Teo might be about his size.”

She nodded approvingly. “Good idea. And while you’re down there, see if there’s an extra bed he can use. And Toph, put together a plate of food for him, he’s clearly starving.”

“Wait-“ Zuko interrupted, staring at her in confusion. “Why are you doing this? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me. What if I came here to steal from you? Or kill you?”

She laughed and shook her head, tousling his hair under the towel. “Trust me, there’s no way a little thing like you could hurt any of us. We’re all warriors here.”

“And no one just comes to the Hall.” Toph was on her feet, putting bread and meat on a plate. “You came here for a reason- we all did. Don’t know why yet, but we’ve all learned to trust that people don’t just show up at our door on accident.”

“Who _are_ you people?” Zuko glanced quickly between the three of them, his confusion only growing. These people seemed stranger and stranger by the minute, and usually he would have fled long ago, but something was telling him to stay.

Sokka laughed, a deep, infectious sound. “We’re the Companions. I know all this seems weird, but trust me, you’ll get used to it.” He shot a wink at Zuko and darted down a set of stairs off to the right. A moment later there was the sound of a heavy set of doors opening and closing, and Katara seemed to decide that he was dry enough and started pulling him over to the fire.

“Welcome to Jorrvaskr, Zuko.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> possibly more to follow?? we'll see... in the meantime feel free to check me out on Tumblr @avatarninja


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